Memorial's and Memories
by LadyMoonSilver
Summary: Memorial Day brings up memories for the adults and questions from a Little One. Once again set in the '90's after the Gulf War.


_Memorial Day at brings back memories for the adults and questions for one small curious child._

 _As usual, the charactures of Classic Five-O all belong to CBS, the rest are products of my overactive imagination._

 _This one has no sex, no drugs, and no bad language, but it's a little depressing._

 _Read and enjoy..._

 _Note: Before everyone gets all bent out of shape, I know I got Sandy's boyfriend wrong... reposting for changes_

O-O-O-O-O

 **Memorials and Memories**

They stood in the crowd, a small woman wearing Army dress blues and a tall man in the white uniform of a Navy Lieutenant Commander. Both, being honorably retired from the military, were allowed to wear the uniforms on special occasions.

Occasions didn't get more special than Memorial Day at Pearl Harbor, overshadowed only by the observation of Pearl Harbor Day. Therefore, the pier was crowded with people waiting to board the special ferry that would take them out past the breakwater where leis with the names of the deceased would be tossed into the water to be carried into infinity by the waters of the Pacific.

McGarrett looked around. The crowd kept getting younger as the old timers from WW2 passed into the great beyond. There were fewer from the Korean Conflict, Chin's war, and Vietnam, his war and Duke's war, and the war of thousands of others; all getting older and grayer. But it was the younger ones that were the most troubling. The ones from the Gulf War. The war the US had won in a few months with very few casualties. _No, the butcher's bill wasn't to high for that one_ , he thought, _it's the collateral damage done to the people who did the fighting._

He looked at the couple standing next to him. A man in his early thirties dressed in a Marine Corps flight suit standing by a woman wearing a HPD dress uniform. He couldn't help but overhear their conversation. He'd had an almost verbatim one with Maggie earlier.

"Sandy, you don't have to do this," the Marine Captain said.

"I have to, Mike," she'd said quietly.

"Then I'll be here when you get back. You know, I miss him, too," he said with a wistful smile.

"Every time I fly I feel like he's right there next to me, telling me to bring up the nose or level off the wings."

"He's still my co-pilot, Sis. Best one ever," he hugged his sister and adjusted the cap on her reddish blonde curls to a more rakish angle. "There, that's more like the old Sandy."

The two couples were approached by an Air Force Lieutenant and an Army Captain in dress uniforms. "Sergeant Welles, Sergeant First Class McGarrett, we're ready for you now."

Maggie nodded and stood on tiptoe to kiss her husband. He gave her a short embrace, and whispered in her ear. "I will be waiting for you when you get back."

"I know," she said.

Escorted by the men in uniform, the two women boarded the ferry.

"Those are two remarkable women," Mike said.

"Don't I know it," McGarrett said.

"I know she starts working for you next month. Don't you dare let anything happen to my sister. She's all I've got left."

"I'm with you on that one, Brudah," Steve said watching as the ferry cast off it's lines and drew up the gangway as it prepared to leave the dock.

Mike consulted his watch. "I've got to go get my bird ready for the flyover. I'll land before the ferry docks. Keep an eye out for her, will you?"

"Will do," McGarrett said returning Mike's salute as he watched the Marine flier cross the parking lot to where the helicopters were waiting. While the people on the ships were remembering family members, they chopper pilots would be memorializing pilots and flight crews.

Which lead to the reason he was standing on the docks at the Pearl Harbor Memorial.

He'd met HPD Sergeant Sandra Welles for lunch a month earlier. She had been neatly dressed in a conservative beige suit with a soft cream silk blouse and a pair of low heeled beige pumps, accented by a red and blue Hawaiian print scarf. She was her usual chipper self, although these last few years she seemed to become quieter and more settled.

They ordered lunch and over salads, he'd popped the question.

"Sergeant Welles," he said, formally, knowing she would get a kick out of it. "I suspect that by now you know I'm looking to recruit women for Five-O. You've worked with us before and for some reason seem to get along well with a bunch of, what is it Susan Lukela calls us?, 'testosterone and caffeine fueled alpha males'. How about it, Sergeant? Want to work for me as Five-O's first female officer?"

She didn't have to think it over. "Yes! Yes! When can I start the transfer paperwork?"

"As soon as you're done in court. Welcome aboard, Sgt. Welles," he said, stretching out his hand to shake hers.

"I can't believe it! Mike is going to be thrilled!"

"How is that brother of yours? Still in the Marines?"

"Still in the Marines and still flying helicopters. He said he couldn't even think about restarting the business after the War with Jed gone," she said, suddenly too quiet for Sandy.

"You never did tell me what happened, only that he died in the War. He was a good man."

"Why is it the good ones are always the first to die?" She asked the world in general.

Sandy's brother Mike and his buddy Jed had been partners in aviation tourism, flying planeloads of passengers around the Islands to see the sights that were generally inaccessible by foot, and giving flying lessons along to way to make ends meet. Sandy had started flying lessons, and the sparks had flown with them. Even her younger brother's eternal screw-ups couldn't put a damper on their romance.

Then came the Gulf War. Both men were recalled to active duty. Jed for the Air Force, Mike as a Marine Corps helicopter pilot. Mike came back. Jed didn't. The only good thing to come out of the war was that her younger brother finally managed to grow up. He came back to Honolulu long enough to liquidate the business, selling everything but the Cesna Sandy had learned to fly in. He had signed the plane over to her with no regrets, figuring it was payback for all the trouble he'd once caused her. She took the plane up at least twice a month, time and weather permitting.

They had gotten married a week before Jed left for the Gulf. He was going to be co-piloting an AWACS plane, he'd said. As big as a 707 and built like a tank. He'd be back before she even knew he was gone.

She hadn't even had time to change her name when his plane was shot down.

McGarrett had sat there silent for a moment, then he asked the question. "Were there Army Military Intelligence people on that plane?"

"A squad, I think. They all died. Everyone on the plane did. I was angry for a long time. Built like a tank my ass."

"Sandy," he said gently. "You may need to talk to Maggie. One of the men on that plane was her late husband."

That was why he was waiting on the pier. He watched until the ferry was out of sight and until he heard the engines on the helicopters warming up before joining the rest of the crew at one of the picnic tables reserved for families. The table reserved for Five-O was packed. Danny was there with Beverly, who after her first bout of nausea, which she tributed more to a concussion than pregnancy, was glowing with impending motherhood. Danny hovered over her like a mother hen, ever mindful of her comfort. She was dressed in her Navy whites, the new silver bars gleaming at the collar. Duke and Susan were there, with Duke running after Michael as Susan looked on. Chin was there with his four youngest, the boys busily scoping out any cute females in their age group. Amy was on her cell phone talking to one of her many friends, and Tilda was sitting at the table with one of those looks on her face that let adults know she was about to ask some very disquieting questions.

"What's up, Little One?" Steve asked. That was what Maggie called her, Little One. It was some sort of Cajun tradition to call the youngest in the family Little One, a shortened version of Ti Bon Ange, or Little angel.

"This is Memorial Day, right?" she asked.

"Yes. Memorial Day, why do you ask."

"This is the day we remember people who got killed in the war? Which war?"

"All of them, honey," Steve said.

"Have there been a lot of wars?" she asked looking at him gravely with those almond shaped black eyes.

"More than I like to think about."

"Auntie Maggie was married before, to another soldier?"

"Yes, she was. His name was Michael Alden. He was killed in the Gulf War when his plane was shot down. Auntie Sandy's husband was flying the plane. They both died as hero's serving this country." He wonder how he was managing to say that so convincingly. He was still of the opinion the Gulf War was a waste of time and effort that was only going to lead to more trouble in the future, making him extremely grateful that Maggie's 214 read 'medically retired'.

"And then she married you."

"Yes, after a long time. I'm very happy she did."

"How did Auntie Maggie get hurt in the war?" she asked.

He was wondering how long it was going to take for her to get to that question. It was something that Maggie didn't like to talk about and he really wasn't sure how to approach the subject with a curious nine year old who thought the Rose Warriors were war goddesses.

Chin, who had been listening, saved the day.

"Your Auntie was in a firefight. She got hurt when the vehicle she was riding in got hit by mortar fire. They were in a zone considered safe, but when you are at war, nothing is really safe. She survived, because she was suppose to come here to Hawaii to keep you out of trouble, you little devil!" he said, smiling at his daughter and giving her a brief tickle to lighten up the mood.

"I'm still going to be a Rose Warrior when I grow up. Daddy, can I go play with Michael?"

"Yes, because your Uncle Duke looks like he needs a breather." Tilda kissed her daddy on the cheek and ran off to relieve Duke of his parental duties.

"Maggie gone be okay?" Danny asked.

"I think so," Steve said. "It's not like she's out there alone. Sandy's with her."

O-O-O-O-O

The two women, each in different blue uniforms, stood at the rail of the ferry, watching the water. The Chaplin in charge was reading a scripture neither of them were hearing.

"Small world, isn't it," Sandy said.

"It keeps getting smaller. I wish I'd know sooner," Maggie said.

"It's not something I like to talk about. It's like giving pieces of him away, and I don't have that many to start with."

"That I understand all too well. How long were you married?"

"Three months and six days. We went to city hall and did the deed a week before he shipped out for Bahrain. You?"

"Almost made it to twelve years. Then that damned war got in the way."

"Was he a good man? I like to think of Jed as being a good man. Brave to the point of being a little stupid and always, always wanting me to be happy, encouraging me to try new things. Most men couldn't deal with dating a police officer. He could. And he was goofy enough to be proud of me."

"He was a good man, decent and kind. And sweet. And way smarter than I'll ever be, from a family that made mine look like the poor shrimpers they were. But he didn't care. I missed him for a long time. Sometimes I still do. But life goes on. I think he'd be happy that I married Steve. Crazy as it sounds, I think they would have gotten along well."

She got the first real smile of the day out of Sandy. "I use to have the biggest crush in the world on Mr. McGarrett. It was awful. Then one day he calls and asks me out to dinner. And I'm thinking it's the start of this big romance, so I get all dolled up and looking like a movie star. You know what he did? He told me that I was smart, and funny, and that I had a very bright future as a police officer because once you got past the fact that when I'm nervous I talk way too much, that I knew what I was doing and would make a damn good cop. Then he said he would follow my career with interest and pointed out that he was old enough to be my father and while he considered me attractive, I was way to young for him and other than we were both cops, we didn't have a single thing in common. I went home disappointed, thought it over, and decided he was right."

"He always does see the obvious. Where is Jed buried?"

"Here in Punchbowl. I try to stop by at least once a week. Sometimes that doesn't happen."

"Michael's at Arlington. I was still in ICU when he died and didn't know he was dead until four weeks after he'd been buried. That was the bad part. Missing the funeral."

"It wasn't something you could help," Sandy said. "I have a feeling he understood."

"I hope so. I think today is going to be the farewell I never got to say."

"Then it will be a good thing for both of you."

"You're right," Maggie said after a while. "It's taken a long time but you are right. Think you'll ever marry again?"

"If the right person comes along, maybe. It's going to take a lot of maybe."

"It took a lot of maybe until I met Steve." Maggie looked up as the engines stopped and the boat was filled with a sudden silence as people walked to the bow, said a name, and tossed a lei into the waters.

They walked to the bow, arms linked holding the leis made from ti leaves and lehue and ginger flowers. Sandy held the lei to her lips, inhaling the scent of Hawaiian flowers. She kissed the lei, and tossed it overboard. "Captain Jedadiah Thomas Ferris, United States Air Force.

Maggie was next. She kissed the lei and said in a voice as soft as a whisper. "Master Sergeant Micheal Terrance Alden, United States Army. Good-bye, my first love."

Tears were running freely down both women's faces as a squadron of Marine helicopters flew over, dropping leis into the ocean, each one marked with the name of a pilot or air crewman. One of the choppers seemed to wag it's tail at the ferry before heading back to shore and Sandy knew it was the bird her brother was piloting.

The two women linked arms and walked to the rail, silently watching the leis float out to sea.

O-O-O-O-O

Steve and Mike stood back from the dock, watching the passengers disembark, scanning the crowd for two women in blue.

"It's a good thing Steve's so tall,"Maggie said, catching sight of them. "And in that white uniform he certainly stands out in the crowd."

"He is a good looking man," Sandy had to agree.

"How's my Little _Menehune_ ," Steve said, bending to kiss her when he at last found her in the crowd.

"At peace, Steve, I'm finally at peace with the memories. Thank you for standing by me when I fall to pieces from that damned PTSD." She held him close, inhaling the scent of the sandalwood cologne he always wore as his arms tightened around her.

"How you doing, Sis?" Mike asked, concerned when he saw his sisters red eyes. He could tell both women had be crying.

"I'm good, now. It's good to remember. When do you have to go back to the _Edmonds?_

"Wheels down at eight. I've got time for a visit."

"That's good," Maggie said, "because Sandy is now officially part of the Five-O _Ohana_ , and by extension, so are you. Food's this way, and I hope someone brought beer, because I am parched!"

Sandy glanced from Steve to Maggie to Mike and back again.

"You heard the woman," Steve said. "You're _Ohana_ now. This way please," and linking an arm through each of the women's he lead them back to the picnic area as the Navy band began playing _Anchors Aweigh._


End file.
